Taming
by Beckon
Summary: People always remarked that he stood out with his layered armor and traditional red-and-blue theme. And to be fair, on a high-tech military base, he did stick out like a sore thumb amongst the rest of the uniformed soldiers. He stood out anywhere he went- even in Outworld of all places. But he looked odd without the armor just the same.


Even with her alarm turned off, Sonya still woke to the neon numbers on the clock next to her bed.

It was seven in the morning, which wasn't too far off from her usual five o'clock wake-up call.

But it was still two hours that she could've used for a quick run, a cup of morning coffee, and a chance to catch up on overnight reports.

Or at least, that's what she would've used the time for if she was still on-base.

For once, she decided to use some of her vacation time that had been accumulating over the years. It was a decision made by herself, without any persuasion or pressure from an outside party- like how it had been with her previous vacation days. She had come to realization that she needed the break for herself- especially after everything that had happened in the past few months alone.

There was the Outworld war, the Shinnok ordeal, the Shirai Ryu ordeal- not to mention the mild corruption of Raiden that she was still trying to calm.

Time was moving forward and she was the one slowing down for once, that much she couldn't keep denying.

If she kept working the way she did, taking every problem and issue the Special Forces had on her own shoulders, Cassie was probably going to find her dead at her own desk- passed away through a stroke or brain aneurysm of some kind. And if she was going to go out in _any_ kind of way, it was going to be on the battlefield, not at her desk staring at a computer.

Sighing, Sonya rolled onto her back and slowly brushed her fingers through her loose hair, mindlessly pushing it out of her face.

She should take the free time and lob half of this braid off while she was at it.

It was too much at this point; not to mention it was a battle risk if she went up against any low-life who wanted a cheap shot.

Subtle movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, before she looked to her right and looked over at her slumbering partner.

Sonya didn't exactly remember bringing Kenshi home with her, or even remembering him on the SF base the previous day- but she wasn't surprised. His attendance on base had been fluctuating as of recent, and sometimes she'd go weeks without seeing him. It wasn't worth asking him where he was or what he was doing, seeing as he told her only what she needed to know- and she never pressed him for any additional answers.

It was just easier that way.

Watching him for a few moments, noting the absolute stillness in his sleeping form, Sonya contemplated about how odd of a man he was- more so than just what met the eye.

Kenshi was rarely seen outside of his usual uniform of flexible yet durable armor that protected him more so than anyone else's did. And yet, despite the heavy layering, it was still a considerable downgrade from the full suit of armor he had once worn in his youth. She had often wondered what made him decide to lower his sense of protection; the only conclusion she had come to was that he was older now and no longer wanted to deal with the work of putting the layered armor on.

But then came the realization that she had never really seen him put it on either; he had always just been wearing it.

The very few times he wasn't dressed in full armor, he was usually in some form of hospital garb, or wearing just bandages.

He was very rarely seen in anything in-between.

And even now, slumbering next to her, Kenshi was wearing a long-sleeve shirt that still managed to keep the same level of coverage as his uniform. He hardly showed much skin these days- as if he hardly ever had to begin with. Never really gave a reason for it other than that it was just his preference and he didn't feel the need to defend it; which was something Johnny always tried to argue with him on, considering the actor's own knack for going shirtless.

Sonya supposed that just added to the mysterious and odd allure that Kenshi carried with him; not that it mattered to her, considering he was weird enough on his own, disregarding the clothing issue.

She reached over and gently brushed her fingers over his beard, lightly touching at his cheek as she did so.

Another rarity to the man was the fact that he hardly slept either.

Kenshi remarked once that he had gotten so used to being on the run, either because of hunting or because of being hunted, that sleep was an easy weakness; an easy access given to anyone who wanted him killed. And even now, decades from his youth, he still had a couple dozen targets that remained on his name. Sonya had been keeping an eye on the few bounties that remained on his head, and every year a few of them still increased haphazardly.

Old habits died hard with the blind man.

But here, somehow with her, he felt safe enough to sleep for longer than the usual thirty-minute intervals he had grown accustomed to.

And there was some pride to be taken in that.

Sonya could still remember the first time Kenshi had woken up in her bed, surprised that he had slept for four hours straight and was still alive. And it had taken her too long to convince him not to get up just because he woke up- that it was okay to lie back down, that no one was going to find him here. And with the loaded handgun under her mattress, and her gauntlets within reach, no one was going to hurt him either.

And he had listened to her, had gone back to bed with her; he fell asleep with a hand tucked against her back.

[Neither of them liked to cuddle. They had both gotten too used to sleeping in an empty bed.]

Pushing her fingers through his beard now, Sonya gently scratched at the rough skin underneath it; she could hear that familiar sort of crunch as her fingers moved through the surprisingly thick hair.

And she watched as Kenshi's eyelids opened in response, allowing her to look into the faded eyes that had seen far too much for the age of the man. His pupils had diluted further and further with age; they were just barely visible now underneath the aged scar tissue that had turned them a milky-white. But she could still remember the subtle blue they had had when the two of them had first crossed paths.

It had been faint even then, but visible still.

The scarring around his eyes had faded in color as well, almost matching his skin shade perfectly now, whereas they had once been pink and still irritated. And the scarring still got irritated from time to time, but at least she was around to help medicate them when they did- even when he insisted that she didn't have to.

When he blinked, Sonya could see the subtle pull of skin across his scars; the hidden wrinkle of crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.

"Gods, you're hideous," she whispered.

Kenshi chuckled softly and slowly rolled onto his back, enticing a chorus of cracks with the motion as his body worked the sleep out of his bones. "You're preaching to the choir," he replied. "Good morning by the way."

"We'll go with that," Sonya replied before she reached over once more and ran her fingers through his beard. "You're in need of a trim, you know."

"I figured as much," he remarked, as he moved to scratch at it himself. "Just haven't found the time."

"Well, I need to shower and I've got a few hours to burn if you want me to break out the hedge clippers," she offered.

He chuckled again, scratching at his neck now with both hands. "Well, when in the Devil's den, I suppose."

Shaking her head at his theatrics, Sonya rolled herself out of bed and briefly adjusted her tank-top as she got to her feet. She stretched as she cut across the bedroom and stepped into the master bathroom, working out the sore ache of sleep from her back and hips. Even with a new mattress, it felt like her body just wasn't accustomed to sleeping anymore.

She didn't bother with turning on the bathroom light and instead kept her focus on the shower that was calling her name. For a master bathroom, it was relatively small- but big enough for two people to move about comfortably. The main attention of it was the large shower stall that she had installed herself a few years back- deciding in the middle of the night that she needed to renovate it.

The second focus was the dual shower heads on each ends of the stall, which she had also installed herself. It had required a little extra plumbing work, but she wasn't a stranger to getting her hands dirty. Hell, most of the home improvements around the house were made by her own hands.

Her father had raised a soldier, but he had also taught her everything he knew about handiwork- which was a _lot_.

Turning the water on, she gave it time to heat up and to get both of the shower heads going before she stepped out and back into the bedroom.

Milling by the open doorway, Sonya noted that Kenshi had just gotten out of bed; he was notoriously slow to wake up sometimes, and she often wondered if it was his body still trying to adjust to a normal sleeping schedule. She watched the way he held one hand out, brushing it against the baseboard of the bed to keep track of where he was in conjunction to it; his other hand was scratching softly at the scar tissue on his left eye, and she made a mental note to check it out later.

People always remarked that he stood out with his layered armor and traditional red-and-blue theme. And to be fair, on a high-tech military base, he did stick out like a sore thumb amongst the rest of the uniformed soldiers. Hell, he stood out anywhere he went- even in Outworld of all places.

But he looked odd without the armor just the same.

And he looked especially odd in just a plain long-sleeve shirt and sweatpants.

[They both must've been so tired the night before that they didn't even try anything with each other.]

"Come here," Sonya whispered, as she gestured to him- and watched as he came to the sound of her voice. He closed the space between them before he reached a hand out for one of her own; a request that she obliged him on. She felt the subtle squeeze that came after as he took it into his hold before he brought it to one cheek and held it there.

So sensitive to physical touches, yet always the first to embrace one.

She chuckled quietly before she moved to cup his face with her other hand and brought him down to her, bringing his lips to her own.

His reasoning for covering his skin so often was because he was cold-natured, and the subtle chill of his lips against her own seemed to cement that. It wasn't enough to deter her though, considering she was pretty hot-natured herself; one of the many opposites that seemed to draw them together like this.

They kissed slow and loose, still shaking the sleep off and enjoying the time between.

"Need some help with this, big guy?" she mused, as she moved her hands to the hem of his shirt, letting her fingers curl underneath it.

"I got it," he replied, kissing her once more, "don't wait for me."

They undressed separately, and Sonya stepped into the shower soon after. Fingers were quick to unbraid her hair, running through it one good time to get the knots out before she let the hot water wash over it. She waited until the strands were heavy before she ran her fingers through them once more, feeling the way the ends of it went well past her waist by this point. Her hair was curled slightly from remaining in a braid overnight and fought back some as she rolled it back together and twisted it over one shoulder.

She looked over her shoulder as she heard Kenshi eventually join her, feeling the subtle brush of his hand against her back as he moved by.

And she let herself take in the actual reason of why he covered himself so often.

She had long gotten used to the sight of his scars, the multitude of them that covered his body like a decorated pattern. Kenshi wasn't ashamed of them, that much she knew, but he had learned his lesson in each one given. And as the years caught up to him, so did the old-time damages done. He was still in great shape for his age, but where each deep-tissue scar had healed, one could see where the skin sagged around it.

There was no doubt that the deeper injuries were beginning to flare up again.

Scar tissue had a tendency of getting irritated no matter where it was, which was a lesson that she knew too well herself.

Gods knew that she herself had been downed a few times by the tissue build-up on her lower organs; the abdomen strike from the Revenant Queen back at the Tournament had condemned her to a life sentence of it.

Still, it wasn't the impression most people would get just off the first glance of him.

Armored and blind, Kenshi didn't exactly seem like the type to get reckless and go into battle. He was charismatic; his youthful voice was soothing and more than enough people had remarked that he was a special kind of charming. But they didn't know that his smart mouth had gotten him into more trouble than any kind of action, and that he was always one to back himself up on what had been said.

He was a P.R. nightmare to anyone who knew him and knew of his connection with the Special Forces.

[Kenshi had confessed once to her that he avoided telling Takeda about his scarring, hoping to further deter the young Shirai Ryu from following in his footsteps.]

[And while Takeda was a smart young man, both of his guiding figures weren't exactly peacemakers themselves.]

Turning around to him, Sonya watched him for a few moments, watching as Kenshi let the hot water cascade down his back first before he tilted his head back and moved to run his fingers through his hair. He had a sensitive nature to being touched, but had remarked once that he always liked the sensation of running water against his skin.

It didn't deter her from taking the opportunity to move in closer though, nor did it stop her from reaching up to run her fingers through his beard once more.

"I get it," Kenshi spoke, chuckling at her actions, "you don't like it this untamed."

"I didn't say that," Sonya replied, "- and I didn't think it either."

Her second comment brought out another laugh before he willingly surrendered to her gentle massaging, allowing her to use both hands to scratch and rub at his jaw. She started at the back of his jaw and followed the subtle contour down along his neck, gently meeting fingertips at his throat before she followed the motion in reverse. Alternating between rubbing at his neck and following the curve of his jaw to his chin and back again, she watched as he closed his eyes and melted into her hands.

"Are you still adamant about not dyeing your hair?" she questioned, noting that he didn't even open his eyes when she spoke. "Hanzo dyes his."

"You don't know that."

She lightly scoffed in response. "He's just as old as you, if not older- and he's died like three times now. There's no way his hair is still jet-black on its own; he dyes it," Sonya persisted. "Meanwhile, you're more gray than anything."

"It like it- it adds character."

"You're a big enough character on your own," she noted.

"Do you dye your hair?" Kenshi spoke, swapping the topic around on her now.

"I used to," Sonya admitted with a shrug. "I haven't done it in awhile though, and quite frankly it would take too long with the hair I have now. And considering how often I have to shower to get blood and other matter off of me, I feel like it would wash out too fast anyways. Not to mention, Cassie and her team are starting to run missions on their own now, so the stress from that alone would just turn me gray again."

Kenshi chuckled before he moved to run his fingers through her hair, somehow knowing that it was traditionally slung over her shoulder. "Maybe my hair will go white," he offered. "It might be a nice look."

"Careful, Raiden might start thinking you're trying to show him up," she mused, as she reached up to run her hands through his hair next, running her fingers through even more graying strands. It was a little surprising just how thick his hair still was as she tilted his head back to run the water over it again. "You might look good with white hair, it's hard to say."

"Tell me, General, did you bring me in here just to mock me?"

"No, but you know... when in Rome," she replied. "Figured it wouldn't hurt to keep you humble."

"Says the woman talking hair color with a blind man."

He didn't need it, but she still helped to scrub him down and wash his hair out- taking the quiet time to gently reacquaint herself with his body. There were days sometimes weeks between them seeing each other, and even longer periods between them having time like this for one another. She let her fingers drift from scar to scar, taking mental inventory on which ones he seemed to be favoring.

And he returned the favor by helping her wash her hair out, which did feel like a two person job by this point, and gently wringing it free of suds. He took the same opportunity to reacquaint himself with her as well, and she didn't object to the trailing brush of his hands over her shoulders and down to the small of her back.

Sonya felt the way his hands cradled themselves against her, pulling her in against him and sharing that same sense of skin-on-skin contact.

Her hands wrapped themselves around his biceps as she let herself lean into him, tucking her head into the curve of his neck.

Quiet moments like this felt so rare for them to have.

She was always needed somewhere else and he was always off on his own thing elsewhere as well.

Kissing softly at his neck, Sonya made a quiet trail up along his throat before he pulled back to meet her lips.

"We always end up like this, don't we?" she mused.

"Can't really blame us, can you?" Kenshi replied. "What other time do we get to do this?"

There was truth in that.

They both preferred their own privacy, and given the chaos on the SF base alone, it really wasn't worth the risk to come out together. Doing so would more than likely take a lot of the weight off their shoulders, but the short-run of things didn't exactly seem bright; and they both had enough to deal with family-wise, it wouldn't be viable. Sonya knew that things would eventually catch up to them, or they would let their guard down at some point and the whole thing would come undone.

But until then, it could just be them.

She eventually had to make the executive decision to cut the water, as much as she was enjoying it; she still needed to do something with her time, and this wasn't exactly productive.

Wringing the loose water out of her hair, she loosely braided it for the time being- knowing that she'd have to go back eventually and do a proper job for it. She grabbed two towels from the rack outside and tossed one to him while she kept the other; she had started a habit of keeping two of most things around now, something she didn't think she'd have to start doing again.

She loosely dried herself off first before she wrapped the towel around herself and stepped out. Considering the haze of steam in the rest of the bathroom, as well as what had seeped out into the bedroom, the shower might've been a little hotter than it felt. Making her way over to the bathroom counter, Sonya shuffled through the drawers, rooting through the mess she had yet to organize despite telling herself multiple times to do so.

"Alright, I think I got all of my weapons of war here," she remarked, as she pulled out the last of the different tools she needed.

"Do you have to call them that?" Kenshi questioned, as he finally stepped out of the shower, no doubt enjoying the condensed steam for a little while longer; he had the towel wrapped loose around his waist. "It's barely a month overdue."

"Let me have my fun," Sonya replied, as she hoisted herself up onto the bathroom counter. She patted her hands against her thighs and heard him chuckle as he walked over to her- one hand reaching out to brush her leg to use as a location point. Not that he really needed it, but he seemed to enjoy it, and she wasn't going to complain.

Kenshi turned so that he was facing her as he situated himself between her legs; his hands moved to settle against her thighs, loosely holding on to them. "Alright, let's get the torture over with."

"I'll be merciful about it."

Starting up the electric trimmers, she carefully started at his neck and worked her way from there. She got rid of the thin patches for the most part, giving him an overall cleaner-looking cut around the neck and jaw. It wasn't often that he let her do this, although he seemed to be coming around to the idea- maybe at her own insistence. But she was still impressed with how still he would hold for her, allowing her to turn his head as she needed, to make sure she covered everything that she wanted to.

Domestics weren't really her thing, or at least they had never been a huge part of her life, but she did find herself enjoying certain aspects of it from time to time.

Swapping the headpieces out, she carefully worked to thin his beard down next- not too much, considering she knew how much he liked it, but just enough to keep him from looking like a wildman with it.

And enough that she could start bringing him on official SF trips again.

"How does it feel? Too short?"

Sonya watched as he ran his fingers through his beard, carefully overlooking her work.

"You missed a spot right here- and it could be a little shorter through this area."

She heeded to his requests and went back over the work done, checking with him again and again until he had no further complaints- and until she was satisfied with the finished look as well.

Kenshi could handle the grooming aspects on his own, and he usually did so without an issue, but Sonya found herself gravitating towards doing it herself whenever he was around. She assumed it had something to do with this bad habit of feeling like she had to do everything herself just to get things done correctly. But at the core, she knew there wasn't any shame in admitting that she liked to take care of him either- especially if he was willing to allow her to.

And it wasn't often that he did; he didn't like anyone doing anything for him- stubborn mule.

Setting the trimmers aside, Sonya picked up the comb she had grabbed and carefully ran it through his beard- combing off the loose hair and fluffing up the style a bit, and making sure the cut didn't look lopsided. Once she was happy with the look, she went through the last step of rubbing on a specialized oil to keep the hair soft- which was really for her own motive.

"Looking good, soldier," Sonya mused, as she leaned back against the mirror to give him a good look over. "How's it feeling?"

"Feels pretty good," Kenshi replied, running his fingers through his beard once more- careful not to mess up the way she had styled it. "I take it you're happy with it?"

"It's your beard," she shrugged. "But it does look better now. You gonna let me do your hair next?"

"I got it, I got it."

She watched him take the comb from her hand before he ran it through his hair a few times, carefully sculpting it into the usual style he wore it in. And she couldn't fault him for knowing what he looked good in, or something to that effect anyways. For as long as she had known him, he had always styled his hair the same way- but in his defense, he _did_ look good in it, so she didn't really have a leg to argue on.

Her fingers toyed with her braid for a moment before she leaned in towards him.

"Hold this for a minute," Sonya started, barely giving him a chance to respond before she placed the end of her braid in the half-opened hand he had just barely raised. She reached down and blindly grabbed the scissors she had seen in the drawer by her leg. And without hesitation, she wrapped the two blades over her braid and closed them; it took two cuts before the braid fell into two halves.

And she caught the sense of surprise on his face as the weight in his hand changed.

"... What did you do?" Kenshi questioned, genuinely surprised at the motion, as he held the other half of her braid up- as though expecting the rest of her to come with it.

Admittedly, it was odd to see the fairly good chunk of blonde hair in his hands, completely disconnected from her.

"Trying out something new," she answered, already tying off the uneven cut of her now much shorter braid. Already she could feel the loss of weight from it- as well as an odd sense of relief. It wasn't often she made spontaneous decisions, but for once this one felt good. "I figured we could both share the suffering for once."

"You have been complaining about it for awhile."

"Not out loud," Sonya noted, as she took the loose hair from his hand and chucked it into the nearby waste bin. "So thanks for that."

"With how loud you think, you should consider just speaking out loud instead," Kenshi replied.

"Look, sometimes I don't want to fight with everyone I meet so _I_ have to keep my mouth shut," she retorted, "- otherwise I'd end up looking like you."

He gave a laugh, but it felt more like it was just to humor her with. "That hit a little close, but I'll take it," he remarked, before he moved to take her hands and place them against his chest; each hand covering a different, but specifically picked out scar. "You've never complained about them though."

Sonya mused his reaction over as she curled her fingers against his still warm skin, feeling the rough surface of each scar at her fingertips. "Can't really complain about something I've had a hand in doing- even if it's just a small part."

"I wouldn't say your part was small."

She lightly pushed him away, and heard him laugh once more. "You don't give yourself enough credit," Sonya replied, before she pushed herself off of the counter and back onto her feet. "Come on, we've had our fun but I gotta get out of the house."

"Where do you go other than back to base?"

"I don't know, I'll think of something."


End file.
